Eros Turannos
by Jemis
Summary: He would never love, and she would always love too much.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize as belonging to JK Rowling. The title is a poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson.

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The weather was perfectly autumnal, the sky a blameless blue. A dark-haired man in dark dress robes stood at an ornately sculptured window that arched high above his head as he gazed pensively out at the ocean that crashed too violently against the shores. Severus Snape could not help but to compare himself to the shore and her love to the ocean. If anyone was to blame, it was him. Her love may have been vast and overwhelming, but it was ever-present and necessary for survival. She crashed in waves all around him and kept him grounded, sweeping him up in high tide and leaving him in the cold when she washed away. He did not love her, no, but she was necessary.

She appeared magically behind him and he did not even flinch at the loud _crack _that announced her arrival. Severus turned slowly and gazed upon her. Indeed, she was beautiful with her dark eyes, almost black, and her shiny, raven hair that spread across his pillow every night. There she was, draped in white lace and pearls, a deep green sash around her waist. Many would consider him lucky. Perhaps he was.

Speaking of which, "Its bad luck to for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, Silvia."

When Silvia smiled, it was not a bride's smile. "Luck has never been what we needed, has it, darling?"

She stepped closer to him, taking his hand in hers. Silvia Bellows was not a stupid woman; she knew that the man she loved did not love her. But soon she would wear his ring, bear his last name. She was irrevocably his, whether he wanted her or not. Still, he held her every night, perhaps imagining she was someone else. It did not matter to her. She was the only one in the world who loved him, the only one who ever would, and they both knew that. What they shared was complicated and unconventional, but it suited them. He would never love, and she would always love too much.

He would never tell her she was beautiful and she would never expect him to. Although they both knew she loved him, she had never said the words out loud. Verbal communication was not their strong suit, nor did they feel the need to communicate. They got what they wanted from each other- nothing more, nothing less.

"It's almost time." She said, and stood on tiptoe, one hand on his shoulder for balance. When she pressed her lips to his, whenever she did so, he had no power over his reaction and so he kissed her, gently at first, then more passionately. Silvia was the only thing that would ever belong to him. His hands tangled in her hair more out of an animalistic need than tenderness. Silvia gripped the front of his robes, pulling him closer as though she wanted to melt into him. When he finally broke away from her, she missed his warmth but was pleased with the darkness in his eyes, the shortness of his breath. She was his, and whether he knew it or not, he was hers.

Within the hour, she became his wife. The ceremony was quick, quiet, and witnessed by the minister and Mr. and Mrs. Bellows. There was no reception, for there was nothing to celebrate. The marriage was one of convenience and unrequited love. Immediately after, they Apparated to Spinner's End, the home they now officially shared.

It was he who claimed her lips now, possessively and almost angrily. There would be no candlelight or romance, there never had been. But tonight, he was more forceful than ever. Her wedding gown lay in shreds upon the floor before she even had the time to unbutton his robes. Severus quickly stripped himself and when she tried to pull him towards the bedroom, he grabbed her wrist and threw her against the wall. Silvia gazed wide-eyed, almost fearfully into his eyes before he ducked his head and pressed his mouth to her neck. His hands were all over her, pulling her closer so she could feel his arousal. A guttural moan escaped from her lips as his teeth sunk into the tender flesh of her neck.

"Severus," She whispered, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. He growled and caught her wrists, pinning them against the wall above her head. "Please."

When he sunk into her, it was not because she begged him to; it was not because she loved him. It was because he needed something to use. She sighed in contentment and rested her head against his chest, so lost in her own pleasure that she barely heard his whispered plea.

"Lily."


End file.
